


Let Me Inside

by reliablyimperfect



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Bit of a pain kink, Bottom Louis Tomlinson, Cockwarming, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Flirting, Further description of tags can be found in Notes, Harry Styles Calls Louis Tomlinson Pet Names, Harry Teaches Louis a Lesson, Jealous Harry, Jealousy, Light BDSM, Louis is kind of a brat, M/M, Mental Punishment, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Harry, Punishment, Rimming, Safeword Use, Spanking, Sub Louis, Subspace, Top Harry, Unsafe Sex, louis is baby, slight degradation, soft dom harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29975088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliablyimperfect/pseuds/reliablyimperfect
Summary: His eyelids flutter throughout the drive, heavy with exhaustion. Louis is finding it hard to hold his arms up to grip the steering wheel. Even his laptop bag is heavy on his shoulder when he walks up to the front door.“Lou?”As soon as the sound of his fiancé’s voice wraps around him, Louis collapses. He’s saved by familiar arms wrapping around his waist. “I got you, baby. Let’s get you into a nice bath before dinner, yeah?” Louis can only manage a small whine and a nod before Harry tightens his arms around his waist and hauls him up to pad towards the bathroom.Or, Louis is Harry’s boss, but Harry is the boss of Louis
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Let Me Inside

**Author's Note:**

> This Note Contains SPOILERS and the only information is further description of tags for those who may need a bit more information to avoid being triggered.
> 
> The Dub Con tag comes from a scene in which Harry tries to scene, and Louis doesn't want it to happen. He gets a bit stuck in his head, and his discomfort is touched on. Eventually, he gets himself out of the situation with his safeword.
> 
> Psychological punishments are in the form of Harry avoiding calling Louis by his pet names and addresses him only by his name (Louis/Lou).
> 
> If you have any specific questions, you can contact me @mmmm_kat on Twitter.

Louis runs a hand through his hair, but the offending strands fall right back where they had been: right in front of his eyes. He sighs as he scrubs his hands over his face. The bright screen of his computer is giving him a headache, but he has to get this evaluation finished before he can go home.  
The door opening catches his attention, and he glances up to smile at his coworker, Niall. The bubbly blonde looks almost as exhausted as he feels, so Louis shoots him a sympathetic glance as he passive-aggressively smashes the next few keys. Niall gathers his things together and Louis waves him off with a quick “See you tomorrow!” as Harry comes in chatting with another coworker. They’re both in conversation, assumedly about a shared student, that Louis doesn’t tune into.  
“Bye, Louis!” The woman calls a few minutes later as she shoulders her purse.  
“See you tomorrow, Ris!” He responds. Finally, blessedly, he types out the last sentence of his report. There are four other things on his to-do list that he needs to finish before the end of tomorrow, and he wants to knock at least one of them off today, so he puts reviewing his report on the back-burner to shuffle some papers around on his desk.  
The behavior therapist comes into the room with some of the paperwork he needs for the file he’s putting together on a new student, which he takes easily. They briefly converse about Jacob, the student, who he observed in the classroom today to determine a course of action for his Behavior Intervention Plan. A BIP hadn’t been their first choice, but Jacob’s aggressive avoidance of anything related to writing has kicked up a notch during his second year of middle school, so it was necessary.  
“You look like hell, Lou,” Liam tells him, not unkindly. “You need to relax. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“See you tomorrow, Liam,” Louis chuckles, rolling his eyes. What the hell does he know? Louis thinks bitterly. I look amazing.  
“Bye, Lou,” Harry waves. He’s been hovering for a while at the corner of Louis’ desk, waiting for a lull in their conversation to speak.  
“See you tomorrow!” Louis calls out of habit. He freezes, then flushes slightly. “Sorry. I’ll see you at home, darling.” Harry swoops down to kiss his hairline and returns the sentiment before he’s gone, Liam following closely behind him.  
Louis lets out another sigh when his room is empty and settles in to file the paperwork and make a few calls before he, too, can go home.

As soon as Louis finishes editing his evaluation and sends it off to the department head for final approval, he closes his laptop and sends a text to Harry telling him he’s on his way home. His movements are beginning to get sluggish, and his feet drag when the weight of his day catches up to him. The intense need to be home overwhelms him until he’s pulling up to the driveway and he catches sight of a familiar silhouette behind the curtains in the kitchen. He takes a deep breath and instantly feels more relaxed. The final piece falls into place when he closes the door behind himself. The smell of dinner washes over him, and, when he locks the door behind him, Supervisor Louis is left in the entryway as he moves through the house to find Harry.

Louis is up well before Harry the next morning. He putters around the bedroom while Harry sleeps soundly, collecting his things to get some work done before the day officially starts.  
He packs his and Harry’s lunches before putting his fiancé’s back into the fridge to stay cold. After he writes a note wishing for Harry to have a good day, he sticks it on the packed lunch. At the door, he slides on his shoes and grabs his keys, locking the door behind him silently.  
The car is a bit chilly when he slides into the front seat, but it isn’t worth going back inside until the car warms up. Instead, he starts the car, blasts the heat, and reverses out of the driveway. It’s nearing half six when he pulls into the parking lot, and he’s exhausted from his busy day yesterday, but less than twelve hours lie between him and a blissful weekend, and he starts counting down the minutes from the moment he gets out of the car.  
He walks into the room and flips one light on. The florescent lighting always got to be too much with both on, so he’s learned to only use one. Settling at his desk to get some work done before his kids come in, he opens his laptop to get some things checked off his list.  
Nearly an hour later, all of his tests from the week have been graded. He takes a break from writing to update some IEPs. Two kids have ARDs early next week. There is only one IEP to update, a few papers to file, six signatures he needs from various teachers, and an observation he has this afternoon when his kids walk into the classroom. He lets out a deep sigh and gathers his materials for the first lesson as they get their stuff ready.

***

He’s feeling a bit out of it as he goes through their grammar lesson. The lights, even using only one, seem too bright, and the buzzing of the panel he’s writing on is driving him crazy. This is the last group lesson before lunch, and he needs a break.  
Louis runs a hand through his hair as he writes the sentence they’ve been working with on the panel. The door opens, and all of Louis’ kids whip their heads around to see who walks in. It’s Harry, because of course it is. Louis had texted him earlier to say he was working through lunch, and he should’ve known Harry would come eat with him.  
Louis shoots him a small smile before turning back to his class, collecting his thoughts, “So, Wednesday, we wrote a sentence.”  
“About sloths!” Jackson helpfully supplied, interrupting Louis’ next sentence.  
“The thing about not being afraid of sloths is…they think you’re a tree.” Louis reads from the board, emphasizing the ellipsis. “When you write, in order to create suspense for you reader, an ellipsis may be used, like in our sentence. We don’t know what is bad about not being afraid of sloths. That ellipsis creates the suspense, a pause, to keep your reader interested. Now, if you use them all the time, it loses the emphasis, so make sure to use them appropriately.”  
“Sloths aren’t scary!” Julia jumps up to shout out for the third time today, and Louis levels her with a look until she sits back down with a sheepish smile.  
“The problem with not being afraid of sloths is that you won’t run away. If you’re still, a sloth might mistake you for a tree. My sentence means ‘If you’re not afraid of sloths, they might climb you like a tree.’” Harry snorts from where he’s splayed out enticingly in Louis’ teacher chair at his desk. Louis flushes at his unintentional innuendo and throws a playful glare back at the man. “Anyway, we have ten minutes until lunch. I’d like each of you to create your own sentence using our model to create suspense. What is an animal you are or are not afraid of, and why is that a problem?”  
Harry wordlessly stands up when Louis comes closer to allow him to sit. When Louis settles, Harry’s hands immediately move to knead at his shoulders. One trails up the side of his neck, eliciting shivers that he’s unable to stifle. His eyes slip closed for just a moment, and the next thing he knows, Harry is leaning down to speak softly in his ear, and he jolts back into awareness.  
“Time for lunch, love,” Harry soothes easily. Louis, embarrassed at letting himself slip even the slightest bit, moves away from Harry, and tries to shake off the fuzzy feeling in his head.  
“Um,” Louis clears his throat. “Can everyone please stop what they’re doing. If you’re not finished, it goes, uh, in your ‘stop’ folder and you can finish it later. Once your desk is clean, you may line up for lunch.”  
The bustling leaves the room as the kids line up just outside the door, and after Louis leads them down to the cafeteria, he makes his way back up to his room.  
When he opens his door, the smell of leftovers hit his nose, and he sees Harry unpacking their lunches. He wants to cry with relief. Harry is too good to him. Quickly, he gets his emotions in check and moves over to settle behind his laptop to hopefully knock at least one thing off his to do list before lunch is over.  
They sit in wordless ease, silent save for the frantic typing that Louis is doing. He finishes the IEP ten minutes before lunch is over, and he leans back in his chair to rest his eyes for a moment.  
“Do you need anything?” Harry asks lightly, no pressure behind his voice.  
Louis takes stock of himself for a moment, noting the way that, when he opens his eyes the world is a lot, too bright and unfocused. He felt so out of it from such a simple touch earlier, there was no way they could get away with a bit of care and have time for Louis to come back to himself before it lunch time is over. With a heavy sigh, Louis shakes his head. He doesn’t miss the frown that Harry sends him as they both get to their feet.  
“Need a hug, baby?” Harry asks softly.  
“No, H, I –” Louis huffs, frowning back at the curly-haired lad. “No, I can’t.”  
“Lou.”  
“I have to go get my kids,” Louis says softly. “Please.”  
Harry didn’t look too thrilled with the idea of letting Louis walk away, but he nodded and moved to open the door for Louis with a gentle press of his lips to Louis’ cheek.  
“Love you,” Harry says softly.  
“Love you, darling,” Louis smiles tiredly.

The day drags on. That afternoon, during the kids’ station time, and after their spelling test, Louis is able to sit down for a blessed thirty minutes and get some more work done. By the time the kids are leaving for their electives, all that Louis has left is getting the signatures, his filing, and the observation he has in twenty minutes.  
Between dropping his kids off and the observation, Louis has gotten all but one teacher’s signature. The other one can wait until after school. As he sits in his observation taking notes, he mentally comes up with a plan for this kid. She is struggling with keeping up in class, and Louis may need to pull her out for some one-on-one instruction. He’s already mentally rearranging his schedule to see if he can accommodate her, or if he needs an itinerant teacher to take her on their caseload.  
With a sigh at the end of his day, he goes to pick up his kids. They pack their backpacks and wait for their respective numbers to be displayed on the screen to go to their cars once the bus kids and the walkers have gone. Harry comes in with Niall well after his kids have gone. He is in the middle of filing papers when Harry drops a kiss to his head.  
“Hello, love,” Harry greets easily. “Will you be ready soon, or do you think you’ll be a bit?”  
“I have to finish this filing and grab a signature, and then I’m done.”  
“Is the signature something I can take off your plate?” Louis thinks about it. He doesn’t need to speak with the teacher, simply get a signature for a report that needs to be sent out, so he nods with a grateful smile and hands Harry the paperwork to be signed.  
“Thanks, H.”  
Quick conversations with coworkers as they head out for the weekend interrupt his concentration and, before he knows it, Harry is back with the signature and Louis has gotten one thing filed.  
“Want me to hang out?” Harry asks.  
“No, no,” Louis sighs. “Go home. You’re too distracting anyway.” The joke falls short because of how tired his voice sounds, even to himself. Harry sends him a worried look, but he ignores it to turn back to his papers, expertly slotting them into their respective places.  
“I’ll see you at home, then, love.” Louis blows him a kiss on his way out and turns back to his work.

It was too good to be true.  
Louis had finished in record time, thanks to his quiet room. Just as he begins packing up his stuff, an email pings on his laptop. Being Louis, he can’t just ignore it, even though, when he opens it, he wishes he had. It’s not an urgent thing, but having this email sitting in his inbox all weekend won’t allow him to fully relax. He’ll constantly be thinking about it, so, instead of leaving it for Monday morning, he sits back down.

A blaring sound breaks Louis out of his concentration, and he locates his phone.  
Harry calling flashes on the screen and he frowns before answering.  
“Harry?”  
“Louis! Where the hell are you?”  
“Still at the school, why?” He hears Harry’s relieved breath.  
“It’s after five, I thought you were right behind me. I was worried.”  
“Oh!” Louis glances at the clock to see Harry isn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry, darling. I got an email and lost track of time.”  
“Louis, come home.” Harry says in his voice that leaves nothing up for debate.  
“I just have a bit more work to do,” Louis protests.  
“Babe –”  
“I’ll be home as soon as I’m done,” Louis interrupts quickly. “Love you. Bye!” He ends the call and shuffles his papers before getting back to work.

The next time Louis glances at the time, it’s nearly six, and everything hurts. His neck and upper back twinge from his hunched position, his temples are pounding, and there’s an itch under his skin that burns with the need to be home. Louis packs up his stuff quickly, shoots a text to Harry, and makes his way to his car in the empty parking lot.  
His eyelids flutter throughout the drive, heavy with exhaustion. Louis is finding it hard to hold his arms up to grip the steering wheel. This once-familiar feeling takes him back to when he and Harry were in college and smoked their weekends away. The heavy limbs always made him feel settled, but now, he only feels keyed up.  
Even his laptop bag is heavy on his shoulder when he walks up to the front door. It’s unlocked, so he steps through and flips the lock behind him as he kicks off his shoes. With the deepest inhale he can manage, the scent of home washes over him in waves that allows the weight of his day to seep out of his pores. He can physically feel his muscles relax, knees weakening.  
“Lou?” Harry’s voice is the last thing missing. As soon as the sound of his fiancé’s voice wraps around him, Louis collapses. He’s saved by familiar arms wrapping around his waist. “I got you, baby. Let’s get you into a nice bath before dinner, yeah?” Louis can only manage a small whine and a nod before Harry tightens his arms around his waist and hauls him into his arms to carry him to the bathroom.  
When he is settled in the bathtub, hot water making his tan skin a bright pink and the smell of lavender permeating the room from the bubbles, he relaxes his whole body to allow his head to slip under the water. The muted sound of the air conditioning is the only thing disrupting the stillness, but that shuts off just as Louis’ lungs begin to ache. He soaks in the abrupt silence for a few extra moments. When he comes up for air after allowing the ache of his lungs to build, Harry’s concerned face greets him.  
“Baby,” Harry breathes, cupping his heated cheek. “You’re worrying me. Working like this isn’t good for you.”  
“Harry, I’m okay,” Louis grunts as he sits himself up in the bathtub. “It was just a long day.”  
“Baby,” Harry emphasizes. Louis instinctively melts, shoulders slipping back underwater as he goes pliant, but he forces himself to sit back up immediately when he takes note of his reaction. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you almost slip under before lunch. From just a simple touch, love. You need to take care of yourself. Let me take care of you.”  
“I’m okay, though,” Louis huffs. He pushes Harry’s hand away when it comes to settle on his shoulder. “I don’t need it.”  
“At least let me join you.”  
Before Louis can respond, Harry strips himself out of his clothes and settles in behind his boy. Harry gathers him against his chest and lets his hands roam softly over his skin, spreading soap and kneading his floppy limbs. From where he’s pressed against his chest, Harry can feel the exact moment when Louis gives up control. A small whimper slips out without Louis’ permission, and Harry gently shushes him.  
“I’ve got you, lovely,” Harry whispers. “Can I take care of you?”  
“Yes.”  
“Let’s get out, then.” Harry steadies Louis’ gently swaying form while he dries them both off. Their large towel wraps around both of them, and Harry doesn’t miss the way Louis’ body curls closer when he steps back to hang the towel up. A gentle kiss has Louis clutching tightly at Harry’s hips, whining low in his throat as he tries to deepen it immediately.  
“Now, now,” Harry admonishes lightly. “Don’t be greedy.”  
“Sorry, sorry,” Louis pants lightly, eyes dark. “C’mon, H, want it.”  
Harry notes the clarity in Louis’ eyes. While they are blown with arousal, Louis is still subconsciously fighting it. He needs to be pushed a bit more.  
“Go stand at the foot of the bed, baby,” Harry says. “Wait for me.” He moves out of the bathroom without bothering to get dressed and pads through their bedroom before Louis can process the request. In the kitchen, he mixes himself a weak drink. The drink is more of a timer than anything. He drops a couple ice cubes into the glass, grabs a bottle of water and some trail mix from the pantry, and heads back down the hall.  
When he gets back to the bedroom, Louis is exactly where Harry told him to be. Louis’ shoulders tense when he purposely brushes against his skin.  
“None of that, baby,” Harry soothes. He runs a finger up Louis’ spine to watch him squirm and smirks. “You need to relax.”  
“Harr –”  
“Ah!” He interrupts Louis. “Now, then, I’m going to finish my drink. You’re going to kneel nice and quiet for me until I’m done.”  
“Okay.”  
“Color, baby?” Harry asks gently, running a gentle finger over Louis’ tense shoulder.  
“Green. I’m green.” Louis nods. Harry grabs the chair from the corner of the room and beckons Louis closer after he settles. He slouches a bit, thighs spread in a way that looks disinterested. The pillow that was on the chair gets placed on the floor for a bit of padding, and Louis kneels down on it with a simple nod from Harry, hands clasped sweetly just above the swell of his bum.  
Harry takes a couple of sips of his drink before the chill of the ice makes goosebumps rise on his skin. Louis’ skin is flushed, and a sneaky look between his legs shows he’s half hard, just from kneeling.  
“Baby?” Harry says softly. “I’m getting a bit cold. How about you keep me warm until I’m done?”  
Without a word, Louis leans forward a bit to fumble Harry’s cock into his mouth. Once he’s settled again, Louis’ arms go back behind his back again. The warmth of Louis’ mouth and the chill of the drink sliding down his throat confuses his body, but that only serves to make him harder. Louis’ throat flutters around his cock as his body fights the urge to bob, swallow, or suck.  
Before long, spit is leaking out from the corners of Louis’ mouth. Harry milks the drink as long as he can. It’s edging close to thirty minutes before he takes the last sip. His cock throbs in Louis’ mouth, and when he shifts, Louis moves with him. He’s ready.  
“Thank you, baby,” Harry murmurs softly, pushing his fringe out of his face while simultaneously easing him to his feet. “You did so well. So good for me.” Louis’ mouth is spit slick, but he’s out of it enough to not notice. His eyes only have a sliver of blue on the edge from how blown his pupils are. He looks beautiful like this.  
“Thank you, Daddy.” Louis whispers breathily.  
“Such good manners.” Louis preens under the praise. “Go lay on the bed. I’ve got a reward for you, sweet boy.”  
Louis scampers over to the bed, excited, and Harry’s eyes drop without permission to watch the hypnotic bounce of his arse. Curves and tan skin are the only thing Harry can focus on as he pads towards the bed predatorily. Taking in the sight of his boy, all stretched out and enticing, makes heat flash through him. Louis squirms under his gaze.  
“Daddy.”  
“What, baby?”  
“Please.”  
“What do you need, love?” Harry asks, kneeling on the edge of the bed. Before Louis can answer, Harry continues, “Need my fingers? Or maybe my mouth?”  
“Need your mouth, Daddy, please.”  
“Anything for you, baby.” Now, for the plan. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re gonna come for me three times. Once from my mouth, then my fingers, and then my cock.”  
“Yes, yes, please!”  
Harry wastes no more time before he drops to his stomach, pushes Louis’s thighs up, and presses light kisses down the inside of his legs. Purple bruises pop up with each gentle nip he leaves. Louis’ answering whines urge him on, and he teases his tongue closer and closer to where Louis wants him.  
Louis’ skin is still warm from the bath, and he tastes like the soap Harry massaged into his skin when Harry’s tongue finally meets his hole. Louis keens, arching into the touch. He tries to grind down onto Harry’s tongue, but Harry moves away with an admonishing tut, lightly flicking Louis’ hole.  
“Greedy boys get tied up. Does Daddy need to tie you up, baby?”  
“No, no, please. I’ll be good.” Louis says breathlessly. His thighs are twitching on either side of Harry, and he takes pity on the boy, moving back down to his hole. He licks a fat stripe from his hole to his balls and circles his tongue over the sensitive skin. Louis shivers, but stays still, and Harry silently rewards him with a few moments of attention to his cock.  
Louis is relaxed enough that, the next time Harry pushes his tongue to Louis’ hole, it slips in, and Louis moans, high and needy as Harry licks fervently at his boy. Squirming from the feeling, Harry has to clutch Louis’ hips firmly to keep him still. The muscle flutters beautifully around his tongue, and a simple, broken, “Daddy!” is all he needs as warning.  
“You can come, baby,” Harry allows before ducking back down. He gets three more deep, firm licks before Louis’ back arches and he comes. As he licks him through it, Harry’s eyes slip closed, feeling the muscles clenching with every wave. When Louis goes boneless, Harry pushes himself up onto his forearms to take in Louis’ face. He’s more relaxed, but his eyes immediately open, and they’re clear.  
Harry takes the opportunity, while Louis enjoys the lingering bliss of his orgasm, to run a fingernail up and down the sensitive skin of his thighs. Louis twitches, but hums. He doesn’t ask Harry to stop. Every minute or two, Harry digs his nail in extra hard, or adds another bruise to the collection on his inner thighs. Once Louis is squirming again, hard dick resting against his hip, Harry shuffles up to grab the lube out of the bedside table.  
Three of his fingers are sticky, shiny with lube when he settles back between Louis’ legs. He uses two fingers to pet over his entrance, feeling the slight give, still stretched from his tongue. There is the faintest hint of resistance when Harry presses two of his fingers into the boy beneath him. A quiet groan slips from Louis’ lips, but it turns into a blissful whine when he expertly crooks his fingers.  
“Fuck,” Louis pants after a few minutes of attention focused on his prostate. Harry presses firmly on the swollen nub and doesn’t let up with the pressure even when Louis’ thighs begin to shake violently, and his breath catches in his throat. “Da-Daddy, please. Needa’ come.”  
“Baby sounds so desperate for Daddy’s cock he forgot I don’t like your dirty mouth,” Harry hums, almost to himself. He feels Louis’ body squirm in reaction and smirks. “So pretty when you’re desperate. Go ahead and beg for Daddy’s cock. Show him how much of a slut you are when you’re needy.”  
“Daddy, please. Need you. Need your cock.” Louis’ voice is rough, tense like he’s holding back his orgasm by sheer will. Harry knows that he is. Louis was close over ten minutes ago. By now, he must be desperate to come. Harry loves it when Louis is desperate. It really helps him fall into the right headspace.  
“Maybe I should stop,” Harry says, voice laced with fake disappointment. “You don’t seem like you really need me. Could just do everything yourself.”  
“No!” Louis howls, back arching and hole clenching when Harry moves to pull his fingers out. “Need you. Feels so good when you touch me. Can only feel this with you, please. Daddy, please, I-please. Love you. Need you.” The words sound like nonsense, but Harry understands what Louis is trying to say. He nudges his fingers into Louis firmly, enjoying the breath he chokes on. Louis’ thighs shake by his sides, and tears are gathering in the corner of his eyes.  
Harry pulls his fingers away from Louis’ prostate immediately, slowing until they’re barely moving. “No.”  
“Please,” Louis whines. “’M so close, please.” He ruts his hips desperately, chasing the feeling, but Harry moves easily with him.  
“Color, love?” Harry checks softly.  
“Green, Daddy.”  
“Good boy,” Harry praises. “But not yet, baby. You’re not ready.”  
“No, daddy, no. I’m ready. So ready.” Harry brings his other hand down onto the inside of Louis’ thigh once in warning.  
“You keep say things like you’re in charge,” Harry says, voice low. “But you’re not, are you?”  
Louis’ head thrashes back and forth on the pillow, whines tumbling out of him as Harry eases back into a rhythm with his fingers. The trembling boy is getting more and more desperate. Harry tucks his third finger into Louis without notice. There is almost no resistance. Harry eases his fingers in deeper, but he maintains an angle that doesn’t give Louis the satisfaction he wants.  
“There ya go, baby,” Harry says soothingly as his fingers move in and out of Louis smoothly. “That what you wanted?”  
“Daddy,” Louis pants. “More, please. Need more.”  
“You look so beautiful like this, so lovely.” Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ hipbone, the jut sharp under his lips, just as he allows his fingers to drift teasingly close to Louis’ prostate.  
“Please!” Louis finally sobs out. The tears aren’t quite there, but the feeling is. Harry rewards his boy by pressing his fingers firmly into the bundle of nerves he’s been avoiding. “Fuck!”  
Now, Harry focuses all his effort on that spot. Louis’ thighs quickly begin to shake again, and delicious sounds begin to spill from his lips, even louder than before. Right about the time that Harry’s forearm begins to ache, Louis’ sounds ramp up in volume, and a single tear leaks from the corner of his eye.  
“Daddy.” Louis’ voice is shot, raspy, but he still holds off until Harry allows him to come with a short, “Go ahead, baby.”  
Louis comes with a jolt, a few ropes of come pulsing from the tip of his cock. He shakes through the aftershocks, whimpering intermittently while Harry pets at his belly. Harry loves his belly. There’s the slightest swell to it that always makes Harry want to bite, so, he does. He leans down to kiss just under his belly button, but quickly sinks his teeth in. Louis jumps.  
“Okay, baby?” Harry asks. Louis’ eyes take a bit longer to focus, a good sign, but he’s still entirely too cognizant for Harry’s taste.  
“Yes, daddy,” Louis says softly. “Thank you.”  
“Got one more in you? Been waiting to get my cock in your pretty, little hole.”  
“Yes, daddy.”  
“Color?”  
“’M green.”  
With that, Harry swipes the lube once more off the bedside table and slicks himself up. His previously ignored cock throbs in his hand as he spreads the lube, groaning. He wipes his sticky hand on the sheets, already knowing they’ll need washing, and lines himself up at Louis’ entrance. The slightest bit of pressure has Louis begging prettily, asking for his cock. Harry couldn’t deny his boy anything for too long, so he only circles his hips for a few moments before thrusting in deep.  
As he fucks into Louis, Harry gradually acknowledges the lack of real words. He’s been keeping away from Louis’ prostate until the last moment, but now, he shifts his hips and adjusts one of Louis’ legs so he’s pressing against Louis’ favorite spot. A few more quick, firm thrusts have Louis crying out, legs spasming.  
He’s clearly overwhelmed, oversensitive, and close, but Harry has a couple more plans for him. Gradually slowing his hips, he comes to a pause right against Louis’ prostate. He keeps the pressure as his hands wander up Louis chest. By the time Louis caught on to his plans, Harry was already rolling one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Louis reacts with a choked off sob. Another tear escapes, rolling down his cheek to the mattress. His back arches the next time Harry pinches him, this time his other nipple. Harry shifts his hips forward, takes a nipple into his mouth, and pinches the other one. Louis wails, pulling at his hair as tears leak freely from his eyes. Three more thrusts from Harry, Louis is begging for release. Harry grants him his permission without teasing, knowing Louis is close enough to slipping that he wouldn’t be able to hold off if Harry asked him to.  
Harry traces a finger down Louis’ tear-streaked cheek and says, “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.” Only a dribble of come leaks from his slit while he shudders through his release. When the initial feeling subsides, Louis falls quiet.  
The only noises between them are Harry’s harsh breaths, and soft, sweet whimpers that fall from Louis. At this point in their relationship, Harry knows that Louis has no idea he’s making noises. Now, Harry can chase his own release. He knows that Louis gets clingy during subspace, and as he comes back up, so he finishes quickly, merely an afterthought at this point, and settles down next to Louis.  
Louis’ skin is almost fevered where it rests against Harry’s, flushed and sweaty from three orgasms. Harry wants to grab a washcloth and clean them up a bit, but he doesn’t want to leave Louis. Instead, he strokes a finger over Louis’ chest, tracing the script tattoo there.  
“Relax, baby,” Harry says calmly. “I’ve got you.”  
Every few minutes, Harry speaks softly into Louis’ ear, leaves kisses on his hairline, or trails his fingers over smooth, bare skin. It works to settle him as he comes down from subspace. Their scene could leave an overwhelming amount of adrenaline behind, and the touches and soft, calming words help to ease the fear and allow Louis to feel safe, floaty, after he is back.  
Gradually, Louis gains awareness. He is foggy. His words slur together, but they start to make sense once he gathers his thoughts.  
“You okay if I grab something to clean us up, baby?”  
“Yes, daddy,” Louis smiles softly at him. He kisses Louis as he stands, quick and firm, and goes into the bathroom to grab a cloth. There’s the lingering smell of soap from their bath earlier that reminds Harry of how gross Louis must be after three orgasms. He grabs a rag and swipes it over himself halfheartedly before rinsing it to bring back to Louis.  
Once Louis has been wiped down, Harry tosses the rag into the bathroom and grabs Louis some comfy clothes, as well as some boxers for himself. He easily helps Louis into the boxers and sweatpants. Nearly six years of helping Louis in this headspace has given him plenty of practice. When Louis is dressed, Harry settles him under the sheets while he locates the trail mix and water he grabbed earlier. Louis is easily talked into a few mouthfuls of the trail mix and a healthy amount of water in between gentle kisses, still soft and sweet and sleepy.  
It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep and, once Harry is sure that he’s safe and content, Harry curls his body around Louis’ and slips into sleep as well.

The sun is up when Louis shifts the next morning, and Harry’s instantly awake.  
“Okay, baby?” Harry asks.  
“Yeah, Haz,” Louis mumbles into the skin of his neck where his face is pressed. “Thank you. Needed that.”  
“Need to tell me when it’s getting to be too much, Lou,” Harry admonishes lightly. “Don’t like seeing you like that.”  
“I know, I know,” Louis sighs. “Didn’t realise how bad it was until it was bad.”  
“You know you can always ask, baby,” Harry tells him.  
“I know, H,” Louis groans, flushing the soft, pretty pink that Harry loves.  
“Good, love, I’m glad.” Harry likes to tease, so he allows Louis to squirm for a few more seconds before he puts him out of his misery. “How do you feel about some breakfast? Bet you’re getting hungry.”  
“Yes, please,” Louis says through a smile. He pecks Harry on the lips before they both crawl out of bed.  
They brush their teeth side by side, but part ways so Louis can shower off all the lingering evidence from the night before while Harry cooks. When he emerges into the steaming bathroom, he feels much more human.  
He pulls on some comfy sweats and one of Harry’s hoodies, forgoing boxers and a shirt because it’s nearly a given that Harry will pull them off later anyway. For as much as Louis loves to cuddle after they scene, Harry is positively clingy the day after. Not that Louis is complaining.  
The air conditioning kicks on, sending chills over Louis’ skin despite his clothing, and he’s tugging his sleeves down over his hands when he walks into the kitchen. Harry turns around, hearing his feet padding softly on the floor, and smiles at him. The curly-haired man is still shirtless. He had only put on a pair of boxers, and Louis hopes that he isn’t cooking bacon with that much skin exposed.  
“Feel better?” Harry asks. Louis slowly makes his way over to Harry. He sidles up behind his fiancé and, after noting there wasn’t bacon in the pan, wraps his arm around to clasp just under his belly button. A smile slips over Harry’s lips when Louis nods into his spine. “Good.”  
Louis’ grumbling stomach breaks the quiet, and they both laugh.  
“How ‘bout we get some food into you, then, love?” Harry says through a chuckle. Louis makes them both some tea and pulls the plates down for Harry while he finishes up the food. When it’s ready, Harry plates both of their food: eggs and toast with jam, before he leads Louis to the table.  
They eat mostly in a comfortable silence. A few words are traded to determine their next plans, but Louis quickly shoots down any idea of leaving the house with a request for cuddles on the couch. Harry agrees easily, which Louis knew he would, and they end up sprawled on the couch together, Harry taking up the entire space while Louis lays, stomach down, on his chest.  
Their weekend continues in a similar way: lounging. They trade kisses that occasionally turn into snogging, but ultimately, they keep it chaste and enjoy the quality time.  
Eventually, after slaying for such an extended amount of time, Louis becomes a bit restless, shifting on Harry’s chest every few seconds. During their Supernatural marathon, Harry teases Louis out of his sweats, tutting when he notices his lack of boxers.  
“A bit presumptuous, eh, baby?” Harry smirks.  
“Know you’re a horny fucker,” Louis sasses back. “Can’t keep your hands off my bum.” He wiggles it as if to prove a point, and watches Harry try to resist the urge to smack it.  
“Should watch that pretty mouth, baby, or I might have to shut it for you.” Harry’s voice drops half an octave, and Louis shivers. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, purposely digging them into Harry’s chest a bit. The gentle huff Harry can’t help but let out gives Louis a sense of satisfaction, but it’s short lived because, after he sticks his tongue out at Harry, his heavy palm comes down on one of Louis’ cheeks, and his breath catches in his throat.  
“Fuck!” Louis barks. He helplessly grinds his half-hard cock into Harry’s hipbone, but Harry’s quick to still him.  
“No, baby,” Harry says disinterestedly. “Only good boys get rewards, and you aren’t being very good, are you? You know how I feel about your dirty mouth.”  
Harry fingers him on the couch for an entire episode of Supernatural and refuses to let him come until Louis summarises the plot that he hadn’t been paying attention to. Luckily for him, he’s seen it before, so as soon as the ending scene comes on, Louis recognizes it and stumbles through the synopsis in between moans.  
“Good job baby, thank you.”  
“Daddy, please,” Louis whines. “Need to come.”  
“I don’t think you need to.” Harry slows down his fingers, but the bubbling feeling in Louis’ gut doesn’t calm. Harry pushes in a third finger, which succeeds in forcing out a groan from the boy sprawled out on his chest. The stretch allows him to focus on something other than how fucking good it feels, though. “I think you want to.”  
“Yes!” Louis cries out. “Want to. Wanna come, please. Please, can I come?”  
“Color?”  
“Green, Daddy, I’m green!”  
“You can come, but,” Harry says quickly. Louis is trembling, trying to stave off his orgasm while he waits to see what Harry says. He takes his time, though. Of course, he does, the little shit. Louis is ready to sob when Harry finally opens his mouth again. “If you can wait until tomorrow, then I’ll rim you until you’re stretched enough to ride me.” Harry punctuates his sentence with a firm press to Louis’ prostate.  
“Yeah! I can do it,” Louis says breathlessly after a high-pitched moan. “Wanna be good.”  
Harry gently pulls his fingers out of Louis and strokes his spine as his trembling settles. He’s achingly hard, and his weight pressing his cock against Harry makes his head spin. His uneven breathing must clue Harry in, because he gently turns him over and pets at his belly until he’s calm enough for his eyes to clear.  
“Proud of you, baby,” Harry soothes. “Need anything?”  
“Jus’ wanna cuddle.” Louis sounds fucked, even though Harry barely got three fingers in his arse.  
“Of course, my beautiful boy. Anything you need.”

Harry rims Louis for nearly an hour on Sunday, coaxing out an orgasm before Louis finally breaks and begs for his cock.

***

Louis is nearly frantic. He can’t find the papers he needs for his meeting in thirty minutes, and, while he’s supposed to be teaching grammar, he’s set up his kids for an early round of stations while he rifles through all of his filing cabinets and bags to find the papers. He’s checked everywhere, but he has no idea where they are.  
Louis takes a deep, calming breath, and backtracks to the last time he knew he saw those papers. After filling out the required sections yesterday morning before class, he’d put them off to the side, on his red table, when the kids walked in. Vaguely, he remembered picking them up again at the end of the day to review at home, but that was the last time he knew he saw them.  
His fingers are pressed firmly against his temples when Harry walks through the door. The taller man frowns, noticing the change in routine immediately, but doesn’t audibly comment on it. Louis putters around silently, rifling through bags he’s already checked and picking up the same three piles of assignments in hopes that they have magically appeared since he last checked two minutes ago.  
They haven’t.  
“Lou, what’s –”  
“Not right now,” Louis interrupts in a hushed voice. Harry frowns at him but stays out of his way by parking himself in a chair by the computers while Louis silently falls apart searching.  
Before long, his alarm goes off, signaling it is time for lunch. He lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair before he can control himself. It’s a nervous habit that Louis is aware of, and he sees Harry immediately straighten up at the gesture out of the corner of his eye.  
“Okay, everyone!” Louis claps his hand together to gain the attention of his kids. “Go ahead and put whatever you’re doing to the side. You’ll have a few minutes after lunch to get everything wrapped up, but for right now, it’s time to go.”  
The kids slowly pack up their things with a bit more prompting from Louis. Before long, though, they’re ready to go. Louis walks them quickly down to the cafeteria and drops them off before he drags his feet back to his room. He knows Harry is going to have questions about his behavior from before lunch that he isn’t prepared to answer.  
Unfortunately, Harry is waiting for him when he gets back to his room. He’s frowning. Instinctively, Louis goes right to him to make everything right, but he pauses about a meter away and turns to continue his search for his paperwork.  
Louis spends most of his lunch break searching for the papers. He’s nearly hysterical by 12:10. He’s got five minutes to find the papers, get his kids, and set them up with Harry so he can go to his meeting.  
“Lou, c’mere,” Harry pleads softly.  
“Can’t, H,” Louis says quickly. He feels a soft, but insistent hand wrap around his bicep. Harry pulls him into his chest and, as he’s trying to wrap his arms around his fiancé, Louis bats his arms away and steps back.  
“Lou.” Harry frowns.  
“I have a meeting, Harry,” Louis says firmly. “I have to find something.” He busies himself with looking through a pile of papers for the third time, trying to hide the shaking of his hands.  
The next time Harry pulls him close, he grips Louis’ wrists tight enough that he can’t pull away. Harry holds him tightly, long enough that he can’t help but melt into Harry’s firm chest. He’s trying to will away the tears that are building in the corner of his eyes, but they’re relentless.  
“What are you looking for, love?” Harry asks. “I can help.”  
“I have an ARD in two minutes,” Louis sniffles. “I can’t find the IEPs that I printed and made notes on.”  
“The papers for Kendall?” Harry questions lightly. Louis nods into his chest, soaking in the warmth from Harry like a leech. “You left them on the table last night, and they looked important. I stuck them in your bag this morning.”  
“What?” Louis asks tearfully, doubtful that the answer is that easy. Harry ducks down without fully letting go of Louis to retrieve his laptop bag. He rifles through a pocket that Louis never uses and pulls out the missing paperwork with a flourish. Louis could kiss him. So, he does. He settles against Harry in relief when he urges him closer, and of course that’s the moment someone opens the door.  
Their lips are pressed against each other’s when the familiar sound registers in Louis’ brain. He instinctively jumps away from Harry, but nearly trips because of the tight grip he had on him. Harry steadies him easily as Louis’ face flames when he recognises the assistant principal. Louis puts an entire step between him and Harry as nonchalantly as he can.  
“We are about to meet, whenever you’re ready,” She says without comment.  
“I’m on my way to get my kids right now, and I’ll meet you there.” Louis nods stiffly, immediately flipping back into supervisor mode. He doesn’t so much as glance at Harry as he follows the woman out.

***

After the embarrassment of getting caught snogging by the assistant principal, Louis subtly steers clear of Harry for the day. It comes as no surprise that, when Harry comes into his room at the end of the day, his face is creased with a frown. Louis feels the corners of his mouth twitch up but stifles it.  
“As much as I love your beautiful frog face, love,” Louis says fondly, “It will stick like that if you don’t relax, and I don’t kiss frogs.”  
“Well, you are a bit of a princess,” Harry hums thoughtfully. Louis’ face burns, thanking every god he’d ever heard of that no one else was in the room with them.  
“Shut up,” Louis says with a glare before he can think better. One of Harry’s eyebrows slowly arches, and Louis wants the floor to swallow him. An apology gets stuck in his throat when Harry speaks.  
“Watch your mouth, love.” There’s no ‘baby,’ no other words needed. Louis nods, chastised, and presses a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek.  
“Sorry.” Harry nods, and drops into Louis’ teacher chair by his desk. Standing there a bit lost, Louis shuffles through some papers for something to do.  
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Harry says. It’s not a question; Harry knows it’s true.  
“What?” Louis says in a high voice, feigning ignorance. “No.”  
“Did I do something?” There’s a hint of something in Harry’s, voice and it’s echoed in his eyes when Louis turns to look, and he immediately drops his act.  
“No, Haz, of course not. When Leda walked in, it just felt like I was a kid, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or with my pants down or whatever.”  
“Like when your mum walked in on us when I had my fingers in your arse when we had just started dating seriously?” Harry chuckles to himself while Louis’ mouth goes dry.  
“She did what?” Louis asks, a bit hysterical. “My mum walked in on us?”  
“Well, you were a bit distracted. You had your eyes closed, and you were making –”  
“Harry!” Louis wouldn’t be surprised if he looks like a tomato. His face feels feverish. “Respectfully, shut up!” Harry cackles, but doesn’t comment on Louis’ mouth, or arse, again.  
It takes a good ten minutes before the heat leaves his cheeks and he can face his fiancé again. When he does, Harry is playing on his phone. Probably Candy Crush, Louis thinks to himself. They had driven here together this morning, since Louis wanted to sleep in a bit, so he knows Harry is waiting for him.  
“I only need fifteen or twenty minutes to make some copies for tomorrow, and then I’ll be ready. Is that okay?” Louis asks.  
“Of course, love,” Harry says, glancing up to smile at him. “Take your time. I like watching you work.” Louis waits until he’s turned his back to roll his eyes. He locates the papers he needs just as a smack echoes through the room, and a bright pain spreads across his arse. Louis spins around.  
“What the fuck?”  
“Language, baby,” Harry says without heat. “I know you rolled your eyes at me.” Louis huffs but doesn’t deny it. The smarting dies down as he packs his stuff up and makes his way down to the copier. He’s making his daily packets for next week, and, while they’re fairly simple, he’s got enough kids that it takes a bit of time.  
Nearly fifty kids at varying grade levels is a challenge that Louis tackles head on. When Louis was offered the Special Education Supervisor role, he was overjoyed. Harry had, through his own job as a Diagnostician, gotten Louis interested in it while he was debating his Masters. Harry’s job deals mostly with the initial, or additional, testing and paperwork side of things, while Louis is one-on-one with the kids. It suits them both, though. Harry has always had an eye for numbers, and Louis adores working with children. Accepting the supervisor role was a bit daunting, and it had taken Louis a majority of the previous semester to learn how to efficiently juggle his supervisor schedule with his teaching schedule, but most of his morning is left open for any meetings he may need to attend, while he teaches for an hour before lunch and through the afternoon.  
Louis finishes quickly and, after stapling forty-six packets, he makes his way back up to his room to put them in their respective places. Harry is exactly where he left him, slouched in his chair, but when Louis glances over his shoulder nosily, Harry isn’t playing Candy Crush. Instead, he’s knee-deep on Amazon’s lingerie website. He notices Louis looking and tilts his phone so he can see what he’s looking at.  
It’s a pair of [pale-yellow panties](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/product/wacoal-embrace-lace-panties-0446967856524.html?dwvar_0446967856524_size=Medium) with delicate accents on the waistband. They look like they’d have a nice texture against his skin when he moves, and he feels hot just looking at them.  
“What do you think, baby?” Harry asks. “Was thinking they could be an early gift for summer.”  
“What’s special about summer?” He teases.  
“Only my impending nuptials,” Harry scoffs good naturedly. “It’s sunny in Jamaica, and I bet they’ll compliment the tan you’ll get.”  
“I love them.” He kisses Harry’s curls and gathers up his things, glancing around to make sure he’s got everything ready for tomorrow. Harry pushes the door open and grabs Louis’ hand as they make their way to the car. Once he’s unlocked it, Harry opens the car door for Louis, but, before he can climb in, Harry’s hand curls around his hip.  
“Can I kiss you now?” Harry pouts. Louis chuckles, but nods. Their mouths meet in a familiar rhythm, and Louis is unable to stop from clutching at Harry’s stupid flowery shirt. The fabric is cool, smooth, in his palm, and Harry smells like their fabric softener with a hint of Louis’ classroom. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle into Harry’s neck, seeking the smell of Harry that he finds easily, just behind his ear. He takes in a deep breath before gentle hands help slide him backwards into the seat. Once he buckles his seatbelt, Harry closes his door for him and makes his way to the driver’s seat.  
The drive home goes much quicker with Harry to talk, sing, and smile with. Louis finds his cheeks aching by the time Harry pulls into the driveway. Having caught each other up on their days in the car, they’re quiet as they walk through the house. It’s comforting in the best way when Louis strips out of his work clothes to exchange them for some sweats. He wanders through the house to find Harry leaned over, head in the fridge, looking for something.  
“I threw out your asparagus because it had fur,” Louis tells him in case that’s what he was looking for. Harry’s back straightened, and he turned around slowly to frown at Louis.  
“You mean the asparagus I made you?” Louis nods. “That was a month ago!” He grimaces.  
“That explains the fur,” Louis mumbles. Harry just shakes his head at him and continues to rifle through the fridge. “What are you looking for, love?”  
“Nothing.” Louis scoffs, but Harry doesn’t offer more information than that. Louis doesn’t do well with being ignored, so he jumps up onto the counter and lets his heels thud against the cabinets loudly. Harry doesn’t take the bait, moving to the pantry to take stock of their non-perishables. Louis silently follows him, peering over his obnoxiously tall shoulder to see what his fiancé is doing. He leans forward to grab a can of something off the shelf and, seemingly content with the what he finds, turns around.  
“Shit!” He yelps, hand over heart, when he notices Louis right behind him. “Lou, you scared me!”  
“What are you making?” Louis ignores his complaints.  
“It’s a surprise, baby.” Harry shrugs. Now, Louis has to know.  
“Harry, what is it?” He whines, tugging on Harry’s sleeve like a baby. Huh, he thinks, Fitting.  
“Be patient.”  
“Har-ry!” Harry huffs, but doesn’t spill.  
“Grab me the large bowl, please?” Harry asks.  
“I will if you tell me what we’re having.” Louis crosses his arms over his chest. Harry glares at him. He walks around the island and bodily moves Louis from in front of the cabinet he needs in.  
“Harry.”  
Harry doesn’t respond.  
“Harry!”  
Silence.  
“Harry, Harry, Harry, Harr –”  
“Get outta my kitchen!” Harry says sternly, exasperated. Louis pouts until Harry kisses him. “Go relax. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”  
Louis putters around anxiously until he ends up in their room and decides he can remake their bed. After he finishes that, the rest of the room looks messy. It isn’t really, only a few articles of clothing on the floor. He picks those up and goes to deposit them in their hamper, but it’s full. So, he quickly sorts through the clothes and pulls out the whites. His favorite cream jumper has a stain on it from the spaghetti he made the other day, so he’ll go ahead and wash that so he can wear it Friday. One day isn’t a long time for a stain to sit, but it’s his favourite jumper, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.  
The laundry is going in the washer when he realizes that there’s laundry still in the dryer from the previous weekend. Harry must’ve forgotten about them. He quickly runs the dryer to fluff up the clothes, knowing Harry is particular about wrinkles in his shirts. As they warm, Louis rifles through their closet to find empty hangers. Just as he’s finishing the laundry and moving the wet clothes into the dryer, Harry pops his head in.  
“There you are, baby,” Harry smiles. “Why are you doing laundry?”  
“My cream jumper had a stain on it, and I want to wear it Friday.”  
“You mean my cream jumper?” He chuckles.  
“Details.” Louis waves it off, but his lips are twitching with mirth.  
“Get dressed,” Harry says. “Twenty minutes.”  
“Dressed? Where are we going?” Louis’ interest is piqued when Harry grabs his hand to pull him to his chest.  
“Date night, sweet boy.” Harry presses a soft kiss to the back of his hand and ducks away with, “Dress nicely!” thrown over his shoulder as he skips down the hall.

By the time he’s gotten the dryer going, Harry is nowhere to be found. With a shrug to himself, he rifles through his closet for a nicer button up shirt and some slacks. He strips down and debates whether he has time to shave but decides against it. Harry likes his stubble. Instead, he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls on his socks. Once he’s got his pants and shirt on, he laces up his shoes. He’s sitting on the bed, wondering how much time he has left, when Harry knocks on the door.  
“Yeah?” Louis calls. Harry doesn’t come in. “Haz?” Harry knocks again, and Louis pads over to the door, confused. When he opens the door, he’s not expecting to be met with Harry, in a full suit, holding a tulip. If they weren’t already engaged, Louis would bet money on a proposal.  
“You look beautiful, baby,” Harry breathes, stepping forward to press a short kiss to his cheek. Louis’ never been with anyone that kisses his cheek just as much, if not more than his lips. He takes the tulip with a questioning look at Harry.  
“The neighbors are growing tulips,” Harry says with pink cheeks. “They were very understanding when I asked if I could pick one.”  
“Understanding of what?”  
“Well, you know it’s not our normal night for date night.” Harry shrugs.  
“Yeah.” He’s right, of course. They typically put aside one day a month for date night. It isn’t always a fancy night out, though. About two months ago, Harry pulled him into the kitchen to give him a cooking lesson. They wound up in a cookie dough war that ended with Harry licking cookie dough off Louis’ collarbones. Now though, it seems that Harry has a plan for something fancier.  
“It was a bit last minute, so it’s not the best. I had to work with what we had. But, since we have that stupid presentation Friday, we can’t have our date night. So, I moved it to tonight to surprise you.” Harry is so sappy.  
“You are so sappy.” Louis smiles widely at Harry, who mirrors the grin.  
“You love me, though.” Harry ducks down for another kiss, this time to Louis’ mouth, and then pulls him into the hall before he can respond.  
“But wait,” Louis says as he remembers something. “Why did you cook dinner if we were going–” The words die in his throat. Their dinner table has a red tablecloth draped over it, with two tall, white candles lit in the center. Their food is in dishes, already on the table, and Louis has to manually shut his mouth.  
“Okay?” Harry asks softly. The hand pressed against the small of Louis’ back is trembling ever so slightly, and he’s biting on his bottom lip like he’s worried Louis will laugh at him or stand him up on a date in their own house.  
“I love it, Hazza,” Louis breathes. He tilts his head to look up at Harry, and, when he looks back down, Louis smiles. “I love you.”

***

They had stayed up way too late the night before, talking and laughing and generally enjoying the other’s company. After they’d finished dinner, a wonderful Greek-inspired chicken plate over rice, with a nice side salad, they’d moved to the couch with a glass of wine each. Louis didn’t often drink on weeknights. He’s a bit of a lightweight, and three glasses of wine leave him feeling a bit too fuzzy to work the next day. He’d been limited to two glasses and had stuck to mostly water with dinner. Once his belly was full, he switched to wine, nursing it while they splurged on too many episodes of Supernatural.  
Louis is exhausted when he wakes up the next morning. His eyes are blurry, but there’s no residual dizziness, so he’s hoping it’s just tiredness, and not a lingering effect of the wine. Harry seems just as sleepy as him, so they putter around each other wordlessly. Harry passes him his slacks before he can ask, and Louis presses a kiss to his cheek in thanks, almost getting his ear instead.  
When Louis wakes up enough to register the fact that it’s Wednesday, he’s packing both of their lunches and sipping at his tea. Harry comes in a few minutes later, and Louis finally opens his mouth.  
“Don’t forget I need those results from Max’s testing by noon, love,” Louis reminds him sleepily. Harry nods and grabs their lunches.  
“Ready?” Louis pats his pockets for his phone and keys before he nods. He follows Harry to the door, glad that the taller man had agreed to drive them to school last night.

The day drags by slowly. It always does when Louis is excited for something. He has a rare afternoon meeting, while his kids are in electives, to discuss moving a new student into one of his small group classes. Max has shown early signs of Auditory Processing Disorder and ADHD. Louis referred him to Harry for testing, which confirms his suspicions, so they’re meeting this afternoon to get approval to move him into his class. They have parent’s approval and support of everything, but this last meeting makes it official on his education plan. Max can’t join his class unless everyone in this meeting agrees on the schedule of services.  
As much as Louis hates testing, he prefers his mid-week tests over Friday tests. It always seems like, by the time Friday rolls around, his kids’ brains have turned to mush after a week of learning. On a Wednesday, however, they’re still rested from the weekend, and they’ve had Monday and Tuesday to get back into the routine. The kids are groaning as he passes out their math tests. They’re having a short quiz over area and perimeter, but it’s mostly review. They learned all this last year, but the skill had been built upon this year, so he needed to get some data on if they were ready to move on, or if they needed a bit more instruction on the steps.  
As he reads out each question, he hears the furious scribbling of his kids. He loves how hard they always work. Even the kids that struggle a bit have such a curiosity for learning. It makes teaching them new things fun. They finish nearly fifteen minutes before lunch, so he passes out some counters and the bingo cards to play Antonym Bingo.  
This is a fun game that also helps reinforce antonyms. As he reads each card out, the kids have to match the word on their card that means the opposite. So, if he reads out “enter,” the kids cover the word “exit.”  
They should have enough time to play twice, so they get set up and playing. When they’re about halfway through the second round, Harry comes in with a grin thrown towards Louis, who smiles back shyly. He knows the kids know they’re together, but he prefers not to be too obvious about it.  
The round finishes up, and Louis allows each of the winners to pick out a piece of candy as a prize. He tells them they may eat it at lunch and tells them to clean up and get in line. They walk down to the cafeteria quietly, and Louis waves them off when they head inside.  
He has to suppress the urge to skip back down the hall to Harry. He’s so excited for this meeting, he just wants lunch to hurry up so he can get on with his day. When he comes back into his room, Harry has their lunch set up, and Louis comes up behind him to wrap his arms around Harry’s slouched form.  
“Hello to you, too, sweet boy,” Harry says through a smile. “Having a good day?”  
“Yes!” Louis grins back. “Have that meeting with the committee to discuss Max this afternoon. Did you bring that paperwork, or is it in your office?” He settles down across the table from Harry, tucking into his pasta.  
“What paperwork?” Harry says. He’s taking a bite of food, so it comes out more like, “Wha- ba’berwor-?”  
“The paperwork from Max’s testing the other week?” Louis reminds him. Harry chews slowly, like he’s thinking.  
“Oh,” Harry says. “I didn’t have time to get to it this morning.” Louis’ head snaps up, mood instantly gone.  
“What?”  
“I’ve been busy since the minute I walked in, babe,” Harry frowns. “I’ve had three referrals today alone, and you know that is a ton of paperwork. Someone sent back their fifty-page file because I didn’t check one box, and they couldn’t do it themselves, and Leda had an ARD this morning I was in.” Louis stands up to pace, now anxious about his meeting. Without Harry’s paperwork, there is no recommendation for Special Ed services. Without that, Max can’t join Louis’ class.  
“Harry, I reminded you this morning that I needed it before lunch!” Louis reprimands him sternly. “I didn’t just say that to hear myself speak!” Harry frowns.  
“Lou, I –” Louis fixes a stern glare on Harry, holding up his supervisor badge silently. Harry levels him with a look, but Louis doesn’t back down. “Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry adjusts with a hint of sarcasm. “I have explained the circumstances, and, since the meeting isn’t until later this afternoon, I will be able to finish the paperwork for you.”  
“Harry, I asked for the paperwork by lunch so I had plenty of time to review it and put together all the things I need for the meeting. You really,” Louis lets out a huff and frowns at his fiancé without finishing. Harry waits a few moments, eyebrow raised expectantly.  
“I’d like to remind you who you’re talking to,” Harry says slowly. “You need to watch your tone.”  
“Harry, I –”  
“No,” Harry interrupts firmly. “We agreed, when you were offered this position, that we wouldn’t let this upset our dynamic. I have already explained the circumstances, and I think you can agree that you’re being a bit unfair, baby.” Louis is furious.  
“How dare you,” Louis seethes. “Do not call me that!” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s pushed against the wall by his desk. Harry has a gentle, but firm, arm across his chest, eyes blazing.  
“I think you need a reminder of your place,” Harry says lowly. Louis shivers, squirming against Harry’s hold. He’s completely trapped when Harry’s forearm presses a bit harder to keep him there.  
“H, please,” Louis whispers. His voice is weak, and he hates how pitiful he sounds. He wants to tell Harry that there’s no time, not to mention that he’s not comfortable with this here, but he is fully aware of how badly that would turn out for him. Instead, he bites his bottom lip to hide the uncomfortable tremble of it.  
“Oh,” Harry says with a degrading voice. “Baby doesn’t remember who Daddy is. Needs to be reminded.  
“No, H,” Louis says. “Stop.” He is shaking, but not in a good way. He’s uncomfortably aware of the time, and how much is left before he has to go get his kids.  
“Aw, poor baby got caught being naughty.” Harry scoffs. “Should bend you over this table and spank you.”  
Louis swallows. He wants to say no. He wants to push Harry off him, but he knows he’s not strong enough. He’s desperate to get out of here, and his throat feels tight with the threat of tears. He feels completely out of control, and he doesn’t like it.  
“Red,” Louis whispers.  
His reaction is instantaneous. Harry’s face switches from Daddy to terrified in less than a second, and he releases Louis, taking three large steps back. Louis keeps his back against the wall, eyes locked on Harry, unmoving with a wary look on his face.  
“Fuck,” Harry breathes. He runs a large hand through his hair, completely mussing the previously-styled curls. He meets Louis’ eyes carefully, and he looks distraught. “Lou.”  
“Harry?” Louis asks, unsure.  
“Can-Can I,” Harry inhales shakily. “Will you let me hold you?” Louis takes a moment to analyze himself. When he takes stock of how it makes him feel to think about Harry holding him again, he nods. He’s not scared of Harry. Harry is next to him immediately, reaching out to let Louis make the next move. He melts into Harry’s arms slowly, feeling the tension in the room.  
“You okay?” Louis asks softly.  
“I should be asking you that. You worded out, ba-um, Lou.” Harry says sadly. His chin rests on top of Louis’ head, and he can feel the rumble of Harry’s throat and chest. “You haven’t done that in years.”  
“This meeting is really important to me, H. I need the paperwork. You’ve known about this meeting for almost a month, and you haven’t had the free time to do it? In a month?”  
“I know, love. I know. I’m sorry. I need you to remember that I serve three different schools. I am busy. I didn’t appreciate the tone you used with me, though.”  
“Holy shit, Harry,” Louis groans, pulling himself out of Harry’s arms. “You’re not listening to me. I am the boss here, and I reminded you of something that should’ve been done a week ago. I need the damn papers for my meeting today or it’ll completely fuck up my schedule for next week.”  
He knows how Harry feels about his language, and he purposefully swore as a dig to Harry’s lack of control here. From the look on Harry’s face, Louis immediately knows he’s gone too far. Before he can apologise, though, Harry clenches his jaw, which he does when he’s pissed.  
“Yes, sir,” Harry says. He walks out of the room before Louis knows what happened. There’s nearly ten minutes left in lunch, but Louis no longer feels hungry. He knows he pissed off Harry, and he knows he’ll be in deep shit when they get home.  
He uses the ten minutes left to calm himself down. Taking deep breaths only does so much, so he turns all his lights out, sets an alarm, and lays his head on his desk.

When his alarm goes off, he feels a bit clearer, and he slowly makes his way down to get his kids. They have a short Science lesson before Louis releases them for stations. After that, there is only a twenty-minute time slot left for free-writing before electives.  
While the kids are writing later, someone knocks on Louis’ door, which is unusual. Most of the time, people knock as they open the door, so, with a frown, Louis shuffles over from his desk. He’s met with a familiar face.  
“Max!” He exclaims. “You don’t come see me until next week.”  
“I know,” The boy says with a smile. “A teacher asked me to come bring this to your classroom to give to you.” He holds out an envelope with the school’s logo on it. Mr. Tomlinson is written across the front in Harry’s familiar, loopy handwriting.  
“Thank you, Max.” He waves goodbye to Max, and frowns down at the envelope. When he opens it, he easily recognises the paperwork he asked for. With a glance at the clock, Louis is shocked to see that over an hour has passed since lunch. No wonder Harry ran out of time this morning, Louis thinks. The evaluation must’ve been really detailed for it to have taken him this long. He feels even more guilty but forces himself to remember that Harry could’ve worked on and given him the papers early to avoid all of this.

The rest of the day passes quickly. Max was approved to start in Louis’ classroom on Monday, and Louis can’t be more excited. He knows his class will help Max, who has trouble keeping up with auditory instructions. With Louis, he can find accommodations that work for Max, and can help him become a functioning member in a general education setting so he can rejoin his peers when he’s ready.  
He’s a bit nervous when the bell rings, expecting Harry any moment. They didn’t part on the best of terms earlier, so when Ris comes in, he hardly looks up, focusing on his desk. Niall comes in, laughing, and Louis’ head snaps up automatically, but it’s only Liam, who is here for Max’s paperwork that Louis signed. He hands it over wordlessly.  
“Hey, Lou,” Niall calls. Louis hums. “Harry asked me to tell you he had to call a parent, so he’ll meet you at the car whenever you’re ready.” Louis frowns, but nods, knowing this can’t be good.  
Louis quickly gets ready to go, not wanting to upset Harry further by making him wait. He struggles to open the door with his bag, jacket, keys, and both of their lunch boxes, which Harry had forgotten when he’d left Louis’ room earlier. When he gets to Harry’s car, he sighs with relief when he realizes Harry isn’t there, yet.  
His arms are aching. At least twenty minutes have past, and there’s still no sign of Harry. Ten minutes later, and Louis gives up. He sets his things down on the ground and texts Harry that he’s at the car. Even though he sends Harry a text, it’s almost ten more minutes before Louis finally recognizes Harry’s figure walking out the front doors. He’s talking with Nick Grimshaw, the gym teacher, who waves at Louis when he sees him standing by the car. They exchange a few more words before parting, and Harry climbs into the car.  
Wordlessly, Louis opens his door and gathers his things before sliding in. The car ride home is silent. This time, though, it isn’t a comfortable silence. Louis knows that Harry’s pissed. He’s still obviously ready for this to be over, but he’s nervous for his punishment.  
When they get home, Harry leads them up to the house without a word. Regardless of how upset he is with Louis’ actions, he still opens the door and lets Louis enter first. The door clicks shut behind them, and Louis can’t help but shiver when he hears the lock slide into place. Once their shoes have been deposited at the door, along with Harry’s coat, Harry moves into the kitchen. Silently, Louis follows. By now, Harry should’ve given him an order, or told him to kneel at the door on the hardwood to test him. He’s eerily silent. He fills up a glass with tap water and sips at it, leaning against the counter nonchalantly. Louis is nearly vibrating, waiting for him to tell him what to do. When Harry is finally finished, he turns to Louis.  
“I’m going to get started on dinner.” Louis nods and settles in to wait until after dinner for his punishment.

That evening, well after dinner is finished, Louis is loading the dishes into the dishwasher while Harry puts up the leftovers. Louis finishes a few minutes before Harry and waits patiently for Harry to tell him what to do next. When he finally turns around, meeting Louis’ eyes, he simply blinks, face blank.  
“I’m going to take a shower,” He says lowly.  
“I – Uh, okay,” Louis stammers, thrown. He tilts his head to give Harry access to his cheek as he walks by, expecting a kiss, but Harry steps around him without a word and pads down the hall. Louis doesn’t know how long he stands there, lost. His head is clear, too clear, but he can’t focus on anything but HarryHarryHarry.  
So, Louis waits.  
And waits.  
And waits.  
Louis knows Harry is out of the shower. He heard the water turn off nearly an hour ago. It’s late, now, past the time they’re normally winding down to get in bed, and Louis is confused. It takes him nearly ten minutes to get the courage to walk down the hall. He’s expecting Harry to be sitting in his chair, waiting for Louis to accept his punishment, or standing in the middle of the room with a cockring for him to wear tonight.  
Harry doesn’t do anything that night.  
Instead, Louis finds him in bed, snoring lightly. Taking extra care not to wake him up as he goes through his nightly routine, Louis brushes his teeth and changes clothes, forgoing a shower. He gingerly lifts the duvet, slides in next to Harry, and proceeds to stare at the ceiling for nearly two hours until he falls asleep, exhausted.

He knows he’s being a tit, but Louis is so tired. After not sleeping well the night before, Louis has been on edge all day. Harry had texted him before ten this morning to tell him he’s got a meeting during their lunch time, so he won’t be able to eat with him. Louis should’ve seen it coming, but it still feels like a punch to the gut.  
He moves his food around in the container, picking at it, not hungry at all. His body is aching for the weekend to roll around, eager for a break.

Harry doesn’t do anything that night, or the next night. Harry doesn’t punish him.

***

Louis’ skin itches.  
He fully noticed it for what it was at lunch, but he didn’t tell Harry. He couldn’t. What would he say, anyway? Hey, Harry, I know we’re kind of fighting, but I need you to tease me until I cry because I’m stressed? Harry is stressed, too. They’re on much better terms, but Louis can still tell things are a bit stilted. It’s Friday, anyway. They have some stupid awards presentation tonight, so they wouldn’t be able to scene even if he asked. Louis just has to deal with it until the weekend.

Louis can’t deal with it.  
He’s forgetting things. That’s the first real sign he’s starting to lose it. Even though Harry reminded him of the presentation Tuesday, the night of their date, by the time it rolls around, Louis has forgotten again. It takes Harry questioning why he’s dressed in sweats after they’ve gotten home Friday afternoon that he remembers. The stiff pants he’s been wearing all day have gotten a bit overwhelming. They physically hurt Louis’ skin. They’re too much.  
“Nooo,” Louis whines. “I don’t wanna go!”  
“Louis, the presentation is for you!” Harry sighs.  
“And Niall, Jade, Nick, and Sarah,” Louis reminds. “Not just me.”  
The awards presentation is technically for Louis, but it’s also for every other employee at the school that has been working there for five years. Next year, Harry would be honored at the presentation.  
“Fine. I’m keeping the sweats on until we have to leave, though.”  
“You are going to do your hair, right?” Harry asks in a voice that says, ‘Yes you are.’  
“I will do my hair,” Louis huffs out a laugh, self-consciously fixing his unstyled fringe.

“Louis, c’mon!” Harry calls through the house. Louis’ been sitting on the lip of the bathtub in his boxers for ten minutes. His hair is styled, but the effort took all the energy out of him. He still hasn’t moved when Harry comes looking for him.  
“Hey,” Harry frowns. “You’re not dressed?”  
“I’m tired,” Louis says. He doesn’t even have to fake the exhaustion in his voice. “I really don’t wanna go.” Harry looks torn.  
“How about if you wear my jumper?” Harry suggests. “That way you’ll be a bit more comfortable.”  
“But I can’t wear my jeans.” Louis normally saves the jumper for Fridays, when he can wear them with skinny jeans, but he can’t wear jeans to such an important event like tonight.  
“Go get some water, and I’ll grab your clothes.”  
Louis goes without fuss, extremely grateful for a blatant order. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to think right now. The water helps clear his head, just like Harry knew it would, and he feels much better on the walk back to their room.  
Harry has their cream jumper laid out on the bed with the pair of soft, stretchy slacks Louis forgot he had. His shoes and socks rest on the floor right next to them. Harry’s head whips up when Louis walks in, and he stands.  
“Okay?” Harry asks softly.  
“Better, yeah,” Louis sighs. “Thanks. Think I was a bit dehydrated.”  
“Uh huh,” Harry nods. Louis wouldn’t be surprised if Harry can see right through him, but he doesn’t comment. Louis is frowning when he pulls on his pants, but masks it as struggling to get the pants on. “Need help, Lou?”  
“No, I’ve got it,” Louis huffs as he leans a bit too far. He has to let go of his pants to catch himself on the edge of the bed, but he doesn’t hit the floor, so he considers it a win.

The awards presentation is boring. When you hear ‘awards,’ you think of celebrities at the CMAs, or the Grammys, or even the Oscars. This is not that. There’s hardly fifty people here, but at least a dozen of them are children, running around and screaming. The headache that has been growing since he left the house is now pounding at his skull. He wishes they at least had alcohol here.  
Harry had gone off to talk to some other coworkers the second they showed up, leaving Louis on his own. It’s not uncommon for them to make their own rounds, but right now, Louis wants nothing more than for Harry to pull him against his side and pet him. He just needs Harry’s attention. He needs to be punished for what he did on Wednesday. He’s hardly slept, he’s got no appetite, and he just feels bad about what happened.  
He’s sitting, waiting for the actual presentation to start, when Nick drops down into the seat in front of him. Nick spins around to face Louis with a wide, flirty grin. It’s no surprise to Louis, though. He’s known that Nick has some kind of infatuation with him, and he doesn’t care that Harry is in the picture.  
Nick doesn’t care that they’re engaged, and he sure as hell didn’t care when they were just dating.  
Louis is barely able to suppress the urge to roll his eyes when Nick gives him a less-than-subtle once over. “You look lovely tonight, babe,” Nick grins like he’s just given Louis the sun. “That jumper suits you.”  
“Thank you,” Louis says, holding out his arm so Nick can see the details on the jumper. He can’t help but soak up the compliment. “It’s Harry’s.” Nick frowns, and Louis feels a jolt of satisfaction. He knows Nick won’t take back the compliment, but he’s thrown when Nick settles a hand onto Louis’ sleeve. Louis catches himself before he rips his arm away from Nick.  
“I’d say it definitely looks better on you.” Nick trails a hand slowly up and down his forearm, and Louis allows it to happen because it shifts the soft material on his skin, and it feels nice. The itchy feeling hasn’t gone away, but now, with Nick sitting close enough that it’s obvious to tell he’s flirting, Louis gets an idea.  
If he can flirt with Nick long enough for Harry to catch him in the act, he’ll get punished for it. It’s a win-win, and it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make, leading Nick on. He is sick of this limbo he and Harry in, and he hates when Harry is upset with him. A few well-placed touches and a bit of patience to make sure Harry sees it are all he needs. It’s time to play it up.

He’s cackling, and he knows people are looking, but he can’t feel the familiar gaze of the one person he wants to look. Nick’s jokes are dumb, and not nearly as funny as Harry’s, but boosting Nick’s ego is doing wonders for the game he’s playing. Nick keeps leaning closer and closer every time he laughs, and Louis is staying still, allowing it to happen despite Nick’s rancid breath. It smells like he ate tuna fish with onions mixed into it. Louis has to breathe through his mouth every time Nick speaks because he thinks his nose hairs have burnt off.  
Nick is going on and on about how often he goes to the gym, bragging about how much he can lift and how far he can run. It’s getting a bit boring, mostly because he can’t tell Nick that Harry benches nearly double what he can and jogs a few miles nearly every morning. He takes the bait when Nick flexes, running his fingertips down the clammy skin to squeeze lightly. With fake surprise, he ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s exaggeratedly. At that moment, he feels Harry’s gaze on him, and he squeezes just a bit harder before smiling.  
He allows himself to glance up at Harry, seeing the dark look on his face. Ignoring it with faux obliviousness, he grins at his fiancé with a sweet wave, but turns right back to Nick.  
Before too long, they’re telling everyone to take their seats, and Nick moves back to sit on Louis’ left. Harry takes the seat on his other side, completely silent, fuming, and Louis shivers.  
“Cold, babe?” Nick asks. Louis seizes the opportunity and nods, looking intently at Nick. For a split second, it looks like Nick is about to wind his arm around Louis’ shoulders, but the movement is aborted halfway through, and Nick awkwardly shakes his arm and sets it back in his lap. When Louis turns his attention back to the front of the room where the presentation has finally started, he can see Harry out of the corner of his eye, jaw clenched.  
Louis is feeling a bit guilty by the time they’re announcing names. When they call Nick’s name, Louis shouts his cheers, clapping loudly, hooping, and hollering. Harry is silent next to him, completely still. Louis’ name is called shortly after, and he can’t help but look to see if Harry is clapping for him. He is, but it’s half-hearted, and Louis feels the guilt fully settle in his stomach. He’s in deep shit.

***

The sound of the lock sliding echoes through the still house. If Louis didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that Harry had turned the thermostat down, so it’d be extra cold in here. Louis shivers. They both toe off their shoes, but when he goes to move further into the house, Harry’s voice stops him in his tracks.  
“Don’t move.” Louis freezes. He glances up at Harry timidly, heart pounding. Is this his punishment? Harry shuffles out of the room without another word, and Louis strains his ears to track his movements through the house. It seems to be random, though, so Louis gives up. Harry probably knows that Louis is desperate to know what is going to happen next, so he moves through rooms at random.  
When he comes back, he’s holding several pieces of lined paper, and a pen. Louis frowns in confusion.  
“Come,” Harry says. Louis scrambles towards Harry but is immediately pointed towards the kitchen table. “Sit.” Louis sits. Harry wordlessly places the papers in front of him.  
“Harr –”  
“Hush,” Harry barks. “You will listen, and you will not speak until you are finished. Understood?”  
“Yes,” Louis whispers. He claps a hand over his mouth before Harry can chastise him, and nods instead.  
“Good boy,” Harry praises. He motions to the pen, which Louis picks up. “Now, write, ‘I will not talk back to Daddy.’” He speaks slowly, enunciating the words as Louis writes each one.  
Harry stands over Louis’ shoulder as he writes the next line, writing quickly and looking over his shoulder at Harry. He leans over Louis’ shoulder, silently appraising the carelessly printed words. Without speaking, he takes the pen out of Louis’ hand gently, and draws a bold line through it.  
“Sloppy,” Harry critiques. “Look at this one. This one is perfect. Legible. Do it like that one.” He points to the first line.  
Louis nods and prints it neatly on the line right underneath.  
“Yes,” Harry smiles. “Good. I want a hundred more just like that one. Do you understand? You may speak.”  
“Yes, I understand.”  
“You are not to get up until you’re finished. Do you need anything before you begin? Loo? A snack? Water?”  
“No. I am ready to start.”  
“Okay,” Harry says. “You may come find me when you finish.”  
Louis hunches over the paper, and begins writing, silent. Harry nods, and moves through to his office to get a bit of preemptive paperwork done. He’s been thinking of the punishment he was going to give to Louis since Wednesday. Lines had been a part of it since Louis had spoken so disrespectfully to him, but after tonight, he had added a few more steps to Louis’ punishment. Despite Louis’ behavior, Harry is nervous. They’ve been together over six years and have been doing scenes of increasing intensity for nearly that long. Louis has only ever worded out twice, both during the first six months of this part of their relationship.  
Hearing Louis word out had shaken him, and while he’s nervous, like he was the very first time doing a scene after Louis used his word, he knows that punishing Louis and moving past this is vital for Louis’ mental stability. He’d already seen a decline. He knows how little Louis’ been sleeping and eating, but he’d needed to get the anger he felt about Louis’ actions under control before he was comfortable planning an appropriate punishment.

Before he knows it, but was over an hour later Harry notes, Louis shuffles into his office, eyes focused on the floor. He thrusts the papers out to Harry, who takes them. He shuffles through them, studying them carefully. Towards the end, the scrawl gets a bit messy, but Harry knows Louis’ wrist must ache, so he lets it slide.  
“Tell me about what I had you write, baby,” Harry says, finally addressing Louis by the term of endearment. Louis’ breath hitches when he hears it. It had been hard to avoid calling Louis that over the past few days, but it was an important psychological part of Louis’ punishment.  
“I had to write ‘I will not talk back to Daddy’ one hundred times.”  
“And why, do you think, I had you write that?”  
“Because I was rude on Wednesday,” Louis says softly.  
“You were.”  
“Sorry.” Harry takes note of his tone and stands.  
“You know,” Harry drawls, circling Louis slowly. “I don’t think you are, baby. You sure don’t sound sorry. And after the stunt you pulled tonight with Nick, I think you wanted this. Is that true, baby? Did you want Daddy’s attention?”  
Louis is still. He figured Harry knew he needed a scene, but he’s still surprised with how transparent his behavior has been.  
“I asked you a question,” Harry tells him, tipping his chin up to force eye contact. “Did you want Daddy’s attention?”  
“Yes,” Louis whispers.  
“Did you need it, or did you want it?” Harry asks a bit softer.  
“Need it,” Louis’ voice cracks. “Head is loud. Everything hurts.”  
“Baby, why didn’t you ask for it?”  
“Don’t know how.” Louis mumbles, shrugging. Harry hums.  
“We will discuss that later, but now, we need to address what you did tonight.” Louis whines softly, but Harry shushes him. “You wanted Daddy’s attention, couldn’t ask for it, and so you decided to act out, didn’t you?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“You acted like a child, Louis, so your punishment is going to reflect that.” Louis nods, nervous but curious. “I want you naked, kneeling at the foot of the bed, in five minutes.” Louis nods and, when Harry dismisses him, he bolts off to do as told.  
Harry gathers a snack and a bottle of water for after and meets Louis in the room. He doesn’t acknowledge Louis when he walks in. He walks through the room to the bathroom and grabs their lotion. After depositing everything on the bedside table, he sits on the edge of the bed.  
“Over my lap,” Harry says. Louis is over his lap and settled in less than ten seconds. “Now, you’re going to count every one of your spanks and apologize. You’re getting twelve; one for every time I looked over to see you flirting with Nick.”  
Harry’s hand barely smarts the first time he spanks Louis. He’s nervous; sue him.  
“One, sorry, Daddy.” It’s like Louis knows, because before he can even deliver the second spank, Louis’ teeth meet the skin of his thigh, hard. Harry flinches, instinctively bringing a hand down onto Louis’ ass firmly. The boy sprawled over his lap gasps.  
“Two! Sorry, Daddy.” Louis’ voice is weak, but he melts into Harry’s lap, and that’s all he needs. The spanks come quickly after that, each and every one counted, punctuated with an increasingly teary apology. The counting was intentional. Being forced to focus on what number they’re on doesn’t allow Louis to fall under, so it’s a double punishment.  
When he’s done, he helps Louis stand.  
“Did so well with the first part of your punishment, baby,” Harry praises. “So proud of you.” He wipes off a stray tear from Louis’ cheek.  
“First part?” Louis repeats.  
“Oh, yes,” Harry says. He holds out a hand for Louis to take, which he does without question, and he leads him into the bathroom. “Since I’m sure you had some naughty things to say to Nick, or at least things that I wouldn’t have approved of, you need to have your mouth washed out.”  
Louis’ eyes widen when he holds up the soap. Since they typically used liquid soap in the shower, Harry had to dig through their cabinets for a bar of soap. This was an extra punishment to fit the theme, since he wasn’t sure they had a bar of soap, but when he’d found it, it had quickly become the part he most looked forward to.  
He wets the soap, allowing the suds to gather, and coaxes Louis into opening his mouth. When Louis’ lips part, Harry eases the bar into his mouth. He gags softly at the taste but doesn’t tap Harry’s arm – their wordless signal. While he’s holding the bar of soap in Louis’ mouth, he sets a timer for five minutes. Previously, he’d entertained the idea of doing ten, but he didn’t want to upset Louis’ stomach if he accidentally swallowed.  
There are suds mixed with saliva dripping down Louis’ chin by the time his alarm goes off. He gently eases the bar out of Louis’ mouth, wordlessly closes his mouth and tells him to keep it closed while he cleans up. It’s an extra minute or so while he cleans up the trash and rinses off the soap.  
“You may rinse.” Louis ducks his head under the faucet and rinses his mouth out eagerly. When he’s done, his face is red. “There is another half to this part of your punishment. To make sure you don’t forget this lesson, you may only wash your hands using the bar of soap until it’s all gone. Hopefully, that will help you remember what happens when you act like a brat.”  
“Yes, Daddy,” Louis croaks out.  
“Now, for the last part of your punishment,” Harry guides him back into their bedroom as he speaks. “Stand in the corner.”  
“What?” Louis’ eyebrows furrow.  
“Did I stutter? The corner, right there. I want you to go and stand with your nose in the corner.” Harry points to the corner on the side of their room opposite of the bed. “You want to act like a child pulling pigtails for attention? I can treat you like one. Stand in the corner.” Harry’s voice is firm and doesn’t allow for any argument, not that he’d get one. Louis ducks his head and shuffles over to the corner.  
Harry sets his timer for fifteen minutes, but they don’t make it that long. About five minutes in, Louis starts to get restless.  
Two minutes after that, his tongue comes out. Harry is shocked when he figures out that Louis is licking the wall. He ignores it for a minute, but when Louis doesn’t stop, he moves to grab something out of their drawer. Louis doesn’t seem to notice him approach, as he jumps when Harry grips the back of his neck, firm, but not hard enough to bruise. Louis yelps.  
“On the bed,” Harry growls. Louis obeys and sits on the edge of the bed silently. As he sits down, he pauses, taking in what Harry has in his hand. “You’re going to get ten more spanks, because apparently you didn’t learn your lesson earlier. You will count each of them, and if you mess up, or forget to count, I’m going to give you ten more with the paddle.” He spins the leather paddle in his hand to draw attention to it, and Louis nods.  
Once he’s draped over Harry’s lap again, Harry smooths a hand over his warm bum. The skin is already pink from earlier, but Harry isn’t sympathetic. He doesn’t warn Louis before he brings down a hand, hard, on his right cheek.  
“One.”  
Smack!  
“Two.”  
The third and fourth are landed on Louis’ left cheek, counted, and then punctuated with three more to the right.  
“Five, six, seven.”  
Harry waits a few moments, rubbing softly, before he brings his hand down to the tender skin just under Louis’ bum. He shouts, but counts a croaky, “Eight.”  
The ninth is on the opposite thigh.  
“Nine.”  
He uses the full length of his hand as he delivers the last one, the hardest one of the night, over both cheeks.  
Louis is silent. Harry waits an extra few seconds, but Louis’ mouth stays shut.  
“Oh, baby,” Harry tuts. “You didn’t count. I guess you need the paddle.” This part of the punishment, while unplanned for the night, was something Harry had been waiting to do until Louis asked for a scene. This setup allows Louis to choose exactly what he gets. He could’ve chosen to stop counting after five and had fewer spanks. He could’ve stopped after one, or not at all. This tells Harry that Louis still doesn’t feel the release of nerves and emotion that he needs, so Harry allows him something he doesn’t normally do.  
“You don’t have to count these, baby.” Harry says softly. He picks up the paddle and brings it down on Louis’ bright red cheek. A sob rips itself out of Louis’ throat.  
Louis is under before Harry gets to seven.

He’s subconsciously rubbing lotion into Louis’ bum when he drifts back into semi-consciousness.  
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles into Harry’s chest where his face is buried, clearly upset.  
“I know you are, baby,” Harry says softly. “You’re forgiven.” Louis relaxes back into Harry and lets him pet at him, cooing softly every few minutes, drifting in and out of awareness.

“Oh, god,” Louis groans the next morning as he sips his tea. “I have to talk to Nick, don’t I?”  
“No, Lou,” Harry says. “He won’t bother you.”  
“How do you know?”  
“At the award presentation, he tried to touch you. He called you ‘babe’!” Harry frowns. “I may have stared him down and silently threatened him until he backed off.” He has the decency to be a bit sheepish, but he doesn’t feel bad about what he did. Maybe how he did it, but Nick had no right. Louis is his.  
“So possessive, love,” Louis teases.  
“Damn right,” Harry nods. “You’re mine. My baby.”  
“Yours,” Louis agrees easily.

***

The weekend passes in a blur of touches and whispered words. Discussing what had happened over the last few days was important, and, as much as Harry knew that Louis would try to avoid the conversation, he knew they had to talk about it.  
“Come sit with me, sweet boy,” Harry says, extending a hand that Louis takes easily. They settle on the couch, and Harry gathers his thoughts while Louis squirms a bit.  
“What?” Louis asks.  
“We need to talk about this week, love.” Louis groans, but Harry gives him a pointed look until he caves.  
“I’m sorry I flirted with Nick, Haz,” Louis mumbles.  
“We need to go back a bit more, babe,” Harry says. “Tell me about what happened in the classroom.” Louis shifts around uncomfortably, avoiding Harry’s gaze, before he sighs deeply.  
“I-I was so excited for that meeting,” Louis said sadly. “And when you didn’t have the paperwork, even though I’d reminded you that morning, it felt like you didn’t care.”  
“Lou –”  
“No, let me finish, please,” Louis begs. Harry shuts his mouth and nods. “I know you were busy. I get that, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing, and then I got in trouble for it. It wasn’t fair.” Harry fish mouthed for a few seconds, smiling when Louis nods.  
“Baby,” Harry whispers sadly. “I am sorry I made you feel like that. Admittedly, I know I got a bit carried away. I hadn’t even thought about how much it meant to you. I’m sorry.”  
“I forgive you, H. I do. This is a good thing, I think. We’ve learned from this, and I think we’ll know to listen a bit better to each other in the future.” Harry nods emphatically.  
“Will you tell me why you used your word?” Harry asks.  
“For me, it wasn’t a scene,” Louis explains carefully. “I was uncomfortable being chastised for something that wasn’t my fault. When I told you to stop, and you didn’t react, I knew that’d get your attention.”  
Harry hangs his head, concentrating on the floor to avoid Louis’ gaze. He feels like absolute shit. It’s his role as a Dom to be able to understand his submissive. Louis shouldn’t have needed to use his word. Harry should’ve been able to read the emotions on his face and known that he needed to back off. He had been more focused on the fact that Louis had talked back to him, so he’d missed it.  
“Hazza,” Louis says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s trembling shoulders. “I know that I was wrong to speak to you like that, just like you know now it wasn’t the best idea to try and start a scene at school. This was a learning experience for both of us, and I’m not upset. I’m not sad or mad or scared.” Harry raises his head up slowly to look into Louis’ eyes, expression clear on his face. Louis’ heart broke.  
“Harry, I’m not scared of you,” Louis repeats. Harry lets out a relieved breath, and they both finally relax into a more comfortable position on the couch.

Harry held Louis the whole day. They spoke softly to each other, ignoring the telly, as they spoke through a few more pieces they needed to discuss. By the time they were yawning, the tension and uncertainty had faded, and they moved around each other easily.

***

The next weekend came and went, followed swiftly by the next, and the next. Before Louis knew it, he was switching off his alarm clock for Spring Break. They had such high hopes for the first night, lining up three movies to watch back-to-back. They crashed before ten-thirty, and only moved into bed when Harry woke up around two with a sore neck. Louis gently kneaded the sore muscles once they’d settled in bed, a bit sheepish from how comfortably he’d slept, curled up on his fiancé’s chest.  
They slept entirely too late the next morning, waking up well after eleven, tangled in the sheets. Louis couldn’t bother pulling on a shirt when he rolled out of bed, much like Harry, who was moving about the house, completely naked.

“Lou, come grab the laundry!” Harry calls. Louis rolls off the couch with a groan, but follows Harry’s voice to the laundry room, where a stack of folded clothes are piled into a basket for him to sort I not their respective drawers.  
They make quick work of the laundry before moving to the actual cleaning. Harry tackles the kitchen, which has been desperately needing a good scrub for over a week. Knowing they had a week break coming up, though, Harry and Louis had both put it off. Now, as Louis flops down on the couch, exhausted, to turn on the telly, he regrets that decision.  
He’s queueing up The Office when Harry walks in. He doesn’t sit down, though. Instead, he just leans against the wall suggestively. He switches his pose every few seconds until Louis huffs.  
“What, Haz?” Louis chuckles.  
“Nothing, babe. Just giving you a show.”  
Louis picks up the remote and turns it towards Harry, mashing a few buttons.  
“What are you doing?” Harry chuckles.  
“I’m trying to change the channel,” Louis says, feigning disinterest. Harry squawks, offended, and tackles Louis softly into the couch, baring his teeth playfully.  
“Take that back,” Harry commands through a chuckle.  
“You’re such an animal,” Louis halfheartedly pushes him off. After Harry takes note of his fond smile, Harry gently situates himself over Louis. He bends down to gently bite at the skin of Louis’ cheek. Seeing his beautiful fiancé sprawled out on the couch does things to him. When he looks back up at Louis, he can see the lust in his eyes, which he’s sure is mirrored in his own.  
Louis squirms under him beautifully, whining softly.  
“Harry,” He breathes. And that’s all he needs in confirmation. He wedges his hands underneath Louis’ thighs and heaves him up, settling the warm boy against his torso. He kisses him softly before he shuffles his feet down the hall to their room.  
Their relationship couldn’t be stronger, especially after that little hitch a few weeks ago. Now, they’re both more aware of the other person, and Harry absolutely loves how soft Louis is when they get home after work. They finally ease into a general routine after Spring Break. As soon as they get home, Louis drops all of his Supervisor persona so he can truly relax. He also is better at communicating, letting Harry know when he needs a bit more from him. Harry is also paying a bit more attention to Louis, taking note of his facial expressions and noises, cataloguing what they mean.  
As he goes down on Louis for the second time, hearing the sweet whines his boy can’t help but let slip out of his mouth, he sends a thanks up to whoever allowed Louis to come into his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for clicking on my fic and stuff. (:  
> Thanks to Ris for previewing a snippet of my fic for realisticness or whatever that word is. This is my first try with writing BDSM, so feedback is welcome!  
> Leave a kudos or a comment, and maybe even a follow on Twitter @mmmm_kat. I promise I'm cool.


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